Snuffles
by DelilahBunny
Summary: Alternate Universe: Hermione returns home from her 6th year to a surprising new member of the Granger household. Just how does life change when you're given adventures with Man's best Friend.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I have no ownership rights of anything contained within that is recognisable as the works of JK Rowling, the Harry Potter Universe and other affiliated properties.**

 **Note to readers:**

 **The story contained is based in an alternate universe to accepted canon, if this is not your thing please turn back now. Thank you.**

* * *

 **Snuffles**

To say that Hermione was surprised to see a shaggy black dog, on the back seat of the car, when she left Kings Cross was an understatement. Her parent's never had been too keen on pets, before Crookshanks, may he rest in peace, there had only been the occasional goldfish; and she'd only been allowed the half kneazle on the condition that Crooks was Hermione's responsibility. The shaggy dog also looked surprisingly familiar.

"The kennel said he's called Snuffles," Mrs Granger smiled, "The RSPCA lady said he was found roaming the airport. Had a collar with his name, poor thing, but no contact details, and no electronic chip. He's so well behaved, we just had to take him home."

Hermione still appeared a little confused as she helped her father load her trunk into the hatchback.

"After the miscarriage, your mother was so upset. So we now have a dog." Her father whispered.

"Ah." Hermione understood, although she couldn't help but wonder whether there was something more to the fluffy creature than met the eye.

The journey home was a long one, but as described, Snuffles didn't act up one bit. Once Hermione had settled into her seat, the dog had snuggled into her side, head on her lap, watching the world go by.

"So how was school?" Mrs Granger asked, once they were on the motorway and no longer relying on the TomTom.

"Same as usual really. Classes were interesting, exams were stressful, and the Boys have yet to learn how to get their homework done without rushing.

"There's been a little bit of a fuss, Dumbledore, our Headmaster, well he's dead. He stepped off the astronomy tower while sleepwalking, poor fellow. Someone forgot to lock the classroom that evening."

"Now that is a shame, he was a decent bloke." Her father commented.

"Some would say that, you know I was never to keen on him. But I wouldn't wish that on anyone." Mrs Granger had met the man once, but after hearing about how Harry had been treated, and how Dumbledore had been the one to place him with the family, she had started to question. It had bothered her quite a bit that the man hadn't gone, or at least sent someone, to investigate, when the letters to Harry had been addressed to 'the cupboard under the stairs'.

"Anything less upsetting, like a boyfriend, perhaps?" Mr Granger decided to swifty change the topic, a moving vehicle was not the place for the inevitable argument about the now dead Headmaster.

"You know there's no one at school that's peaked my interest. They're all too annoying."

"Girlfriend?" He tried again.

"You know we wouldn't judge you if that's your thing." Her mother reassured.

"No." Hermione was embarrassed and turned to look out of the window. "I just don't think I've met enough people to have met the one yet. Maybe when I get out of school you can be more hopeful for the gossip you are so desperately after."

"Your knight in shining armour will turn up one day Hermione. I promise you." Her mother reached her hand over to pat her husband on the thigh. "He'll appear when you least expect it. Or she, she'll appear."

"Riiight, moving swifty on… Harry is still unsure about Ginny. They've been close for years, you know this, but he'd beginning to wonder whether she's just after him for the fame.

"Ron was dating the school bike, but that didn't turn out well. He's decided he's off dating for the moment… I've told him that one bad experience doesn't mean all women are monsters, but I suppose he needs time. Luna's been trying to flirt with him since Easter, but he's having none of it… he did mention that he might have to travel one day, he thinks that he might find a witch out there in the world somewhere.

"Mrs Weasley still thinks that Ron and I should be thinking about getting together, no matter how many times we've tried to explain that we see each other as brother and sister… it just feels wrong.

"The bad guys are still showing the world that they exist, Professor Lupin mentioned that he'd put some wards up on your house; everything will be fine, he's a rather talented wizard, especially with the help of Bill. You know Bill is a curse breaker for the Bank, he's probably made our house safer than Hogwarts."

Mrs Granger hummed in agreement, "they were a charming pair, mentioned that they were employing a couple of techniques the Ancient Egyptians had used in protecting their tombs; magically safe for muggles, but disastrous consequences should Wizards with evil intentions come calling. I thought it was quite nice of them, and they agreed to extend the wards to include the practice as well."

"It was rather good of them, it's not like we're part of your world, and in the grand scheme of things we'd only be considered collateral damage." Mr Granger commented, "I never thought that they'd take us into consideration… oh, Peggy did you catch what that sign read?"

"The inside lane is closing after the next junction, probably been an accident; I'd come off at Duxford, and come across on the A505, we can always venture through the countryside. Might as well stop and let Snuffles have a run around… anyhow you were saying."

"Ah yes, good plan. Seems we're going on a country jaunt Mya." He chuckled, "but yes, I was saying. It was good of Remus and Bill to come out and put those wards on our properties, we really were not expecting it. I know that the world seems to revolve around your friend Harry, and I would never expect you to stop being friends with the boy. We just came to the conclusion that if something were to ever happen to us, then it was going to happen.

"It is rather nice to know that the people in charge of the resistance seem to think that we are important enough to protect. You know we love you, and wouldn't want to miss out on your wonderful achievements, but we also know that you know that we'd both take a bullet for you. It's what parents do."

"Nothing bad is going to happen to either of you, nor I. We're going to get through this whole mess and have a lovely family holiday. I was thinking, maybe we could go to China when I graduate? I know it's next summer, but I thought maybe it would give us some hope through everything."

"Oh, what a swell idea."

"We shall have to see what this new Labour government are doing first, but we shall try. At least under the Conservatives we knew what we were getting. Not sure what they plan to do with the NHS and the taxes. They've not been in long enough to give us much clue. You know as well as us that the manifestos are a pile of bo..."

"No swearing in the car dear."

Hermione chuckled in the back seat, her movements waking the sleeping bundle of fluff. She began stroking her hand from the ears, down as far as she could reach along the dogs back. "Sorry I woke you Snuffles."

The dog looked at her, before letting out a huff and closing his eyes again. Hermione decided she was quite glad her parents had decided to adopt him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Snuffles**

The journey home had been most tiring, both Mrs Granger and Hermione decided a nap was best before dinner. They'd stopped in Melbourne to have a walk along the river Mel with Snuffles, quickly grabbed a drink in one of the local dog friendly pubs and continued on with their travels.

It turned out that the TomTom hadn't really been much use once they'd started detouring from the quickest way home, so it had been hastily shoved into the glove box and they had been solely reliant upon Mr Granger's navigational skills. It was a help that they were already in Cambridgeshire, and only perhaps an hour or so from home.

While the ladies of the house detained themselves with some, much needed, restbite, Ray Granger took care to place a fresh bowl of water for Snuffles and begin making dinner. Never let it be said that Raymond Granger did not pull his weight about his own home; it would never do for his girls to be the only ones making an effort. If only his father could see him now, the Granger Patriarch would be handing him a scotch and pushing him towards the garden, men most definitely didn't cook in that house.

"You know? It's nice having another bloke around the house," Raymond spoke to the dog as he began cutting vegetables. "I don't care if you understand me or not, it's nice to have a little bit more masculinity in here."

Snuffles tilted his head to the side.

"I knew you were listening." Ray smiled, "Now, listen carefully. My Mya is the most precious thing in this house, I don't give a rats arse what those wizards said, if anyone gets in here that shouldn't. I want you to protect my baby girl." He reached down to stroke the dogs head, "You're family now, and this family protects Hermione."

The girl in question awoke to a wet nose to her hand, a cold wet nose.

"Urgh..." was the only response as she forced herself to wake up, "I was dreaming."

Her words were met with a playful bark and the thudding sound of a tail being bashed against the wardrobe door.

"I'm up!" she exclaimed, dragging herself to her feet. "We could be good friends, you and I, if you let me keep dreaming."

Another woof, and the dog stalked out of the room. His steps were muffled as he padded down towards the ground floor.

Hermione was awake enough to smell her father's signature lasagne when her mother popped her head around the door.

"Are you okay, Hermione?"

"Why wouldn't I be, Mum?"

Margaret 'Peggy' Granger plopped herself down on the end of her daughter's bed. "Oh, I don't know. The world is rather upside down at the moment and you're caught in the middle of it. I'm going to worry, sweetheart."

Hermione crawled over, and hugged herself around her mother's back. "I love you mum."

Tapping her daughters crossed hands against her breast, affectionately the elder woman replied, "I love you too."

"I'm alright mum, I'm still here and still fighting."

"I know, my darling girl, I know. I'm here if you ever need me."

"Thank you."

Their moment ended when they heard Raymond shouting from the foot of the stairs, "Are you coming, or are the dog and I having the whole thing?"

This was followed by a rather happy bark.

"Come on, or he'll actually share it out between him and Snuffles." Mrs Granger made to stand up, as Hermione released her hold and clambered from her bed.

"Dad wouldn't… would he?"

The nod from her mother had Hermione running for the stairs. It was reassuring, to Peggy, that despite everything, her carefree daughter was still there, just a little more grown up.

Once the plates had been cleared and everyone was settled the wine came out and the TV went on. They were just in time for Coronation Street.

"You've missed so much sweetheart." Peggy told Hermione.

"You haven't." Ray interjected, "its the same old shite, just different faces."

"The Battersby's moved in a couple of episodes ago, they are the hate to love them family. You know the sort…"

"Shush mum, and let me watch." Hermione was curled up in her usual arm chair, a glass of wine this time, instead of the usual after dinner spritzer she'd been allowed in previous years. Snuffles was lying by the side of her chair, watching the TV set from his perch.

She'd only been around the dog a few hours and wondered whether he was intelligent or potentially human. Although she couldn't help but be amused at the idea of Sirius Black watching Corrie. It just didn't seem plausible, but then again it was a bizarre look into the muggle world.

"Aren't you glad we don't have neighbours like that?" Peggy commented when Les Battersby headbutted a young Curly Watts.

"Well he shouldn't have thrown the CD player, mum."

Raymond just sighed, eventually there would be something good on the box, not the melodrama of the staple Soap Opera.

"But still, could you imagine that happening, round here?"

"I suppose not, we do have a nice street."

Raymond did wonder why his wife and daughter bothered to watch the soaps when they were going to talk all of the way through it anyway. He had to at least be happy that it was just one, and at least that one wasn't Emmerdale. There was only so much a person could stand of the Dingles.

He was about to pick up the TV guide, to have a flick through, there might be a decent movie on the terrestrial channels later on, when his path was blocked by a mound of fluff.

"You want to go out?"

There went the wagging tail.

"Just the door," no response. "Or a walk?" The excitement was clear to see, Snuffles was up, tail wagging, and on his way to the front door. Raymond followed, at least there was no more Coronation Street.

"He knows you're off work Ray." came the call from the living room.

"Figured that bit." grabbing his boots, coat and the dog leash the pair set off.

Raymond carried the leash with him, but rarely had to use it. The dog was so well behaved, walking at his side for most of their trip.

"I know you've not known her long, but I do hope you and Hermione get along. She'll be here all summer, and then maybe Christmas. Unless that ginger woman comes to steal my girl away again."

The sun was only just beginning to set, and the temperature was beginning to settle. "Best bit of the night now Lad." Raymond chuckled.

At first, Raymond had wondered whether people would think he was going a little bit mad, but he soon discovered that no one cared. Not a single person gave a damn that he had full conversations with the family dog during their walks. Dog walking lends itself to being quite a solitary activity, until a person realises that they've got company on four legs.

His comment was met with a happy bark, as they plodded along. They had a regular route, and needed little prompting to follow it.

"I just wish she wasn't so involved in the bad stuff is all, I mean I know I can't protect her from all the evils of the world… but I'd like to think that I've done my best. I want her to be happy, to be safe."

The dog nudged his head into Raymond's knee. Almost as a sign of understanding.

"Some days I wish you could talk back." He said to the dog, "I am infinitely curious as to what you think of us. Probably along the lines of, 'silly humans' I expect."

They turned a final corner and the house was back in sight. "Come on, I'll race you."

Both Raymond and Snuffles set off running for the house, the grown man smiling happily as he did so.

"So Hermione." The Soap Opera was still playing in the background, but Mrs Granger thought it would be a good opportunity to speak with her daughter.

"Mum?"

"We are well aware of the dangers you face. And We've put together a survival pack for you. Everything is in the garage for you to work your magic on. There's even a rather pretty handbag.

"I've been looking through your textbooks that you left behind. I believe an undetectable extension charm, and maybe a feather-light charm should do the trick."

Hermione looked confused, her mother noticed this and continued.

"We've been getting the papers, and I've also been conversing with your friend Professor McGonagall. She's been keeping us in the loop.

"There are worse things to come than are whispered in the free press. Even our world is beginning to notice it Hermione. So we, as your parents, are trying to do the best for you. We are hoping that what we've procured never has to see the light of day. However if the worst comes to the worst, we have tried."

"Nothing's going to happen, Mum. We're going to defeat him and everything will go back to how it should be."

"I know, I just want you to be safe. You're my only baby, I'm always going to want you to be safe."

Hermione could see the tears forming in her mothers eyes, so abandoned her chair and joined her mother on the settee. "We're all going to be fine, I love you mum." She cuddled into her mothers side as the pair of them silently shared their grief and pain.


	3. Chapter 3

**Snuffles**

Hermione had been home for a couple of weeks when the Owl turned up asking if she would be appearing early to help with the final decorations for Bill and Fleur's wedding. Peggy Granger had always taught her daughter to trust her gut instincts, and something didn't feel right about the Weasley gathering.

They were a lovely family and Hermione always felt welcomed. But recently, it had begun to feel as if Molly were trying to marry Hermione into the family, and it didn't particularly matter how that was achieved. Since the trace had first disappeared, the previous summer, nearly every one of the Weasley sons had thrown themselves at her; only Bill and Ron were excluded.

"You are still going to the wedding Hermione?" Peggy asked, she was tucked up in bed, sitting against her headboard. A Tuesday afternoon, and instead of being at work, she was being forced to rest and recover. Her husband found her throwing up the night before, and refused to let her into the practice, even just to cover the reception desk.

Hermione shrugged, she was resting on the opposite end of the bed, propped up by one of the oak posts. "It's not considered bad manners if I owl, because I'm 'sick'."

"Hermione!" the tone was scolding. "We are at war, you need to make the most of happy memories."

"It feels wrong." She shook her head, "I don't mean, the celebrating part. I mean there's something dark and twisty…"

Peggy nodded, "I know what you mean. But then it might just be that we're in dark times."

"I'm not going!" She reached over to stroke Snuffles who was curled up on the other side of Peggy's legs. "I'll send Molly a message this afternoon with my excuses."

Peggy realised that there was nothing that she could do to convince her daughter otherwise. But then she understood; no one really wanted to spend all of their time surrounded by people who wanted a piece of you. Weddings were fun places, but the Weasley one was unlikely to be so. From what she'd learned from her daughter, Peggy realised that Hermione was only going to be chased by Molly as to which of her sons might be able to take her hand.

"We'll have a pyjama day," Hermione smiled, "you know that Dad won't be letting you back into the office for at least a few days."

Peggy nodded, "if this is what I think it is, your father won't be letting me back in the Practice for the next seven months."

"But I thought…"

"Yeah, so did I… was convinced that this was the menopause finally taking its toll on me… But we're keeping this quiet, let's see if we make it into the second trimester this time."

"Yes, bed rest for you mum," Hermione did a little happy dance, "I'm going to be a sister." She looked so happy. Perhaps there was light in the darkness after all.

The day of the wedding rolled around, and Hermione was quite happily grabbing things for the movie day that was going ahead in the Granger household. Family was the most important thing, and the Weasley's were not her family.

She'd already sent a quick missive to Harry to wish him Happy Birthday. He'd finally turned seventeen, the plan that Dumbledore had put together before his death was in motion. There were lots of things that didn't add up, and far too much secrecy surrounding what they were actually meant to be searching for. She'd been questioning Dumbledore's mental state for years, but no one had bothered to listen to her.

Hermione was looking forward to her bonding day with her mother, and then she would get back to her studies. She couldn't bring down the darkness alone, but the safest place for her was to still be in school, at least then she had the protection of the castle and knew who her enemies were. None of them had been trained to be soldiers, their schooling barely taught them how to defend themselves, but there was a library that Hermione could use for her purposes.

She couldn't help but question how, the dithering old fool, managed to get people to follow him, so blindly. He'd barley given any information to Harry regards the mission he was meant to complete, how on earth was anyone meant to defeat evil with little to no information.

The blankets and movies had been collected in the living room; Hermione had collected together the best of the videos and dvds, hoping that their favourites had been rewound last time they were used. She was in the kitchen, with Snuffles sitting at her side staring at the snack she had put together.

"Stay," she commanded, leaving a treat near the dog's feet as she grabbed her wand. As Snuffles watched the treat with hungry eyes, Hermione cast the Homorphus Charm.

The sudden appearance of Snuffles had made her curious; Sirius Black had died in the Department of Mysteries. Yet, in her mother's house was this shaggy black dog, who was surprisingly loyal.

She'd spent weeks learning how to perform the charm, and she knew she'd gotten it right. But there was no change in the new family pet. Hermione could only therefore believe that Snuffles was an actual pet, and just fit wonderfully into their family.

"Off you go." She called, carrying the plates of treats into the living room.

"I've put The Remains of the Day in." Peggy said as she accepted the snacks.

Hermione snuggled into her blankets and pressed play. The Remains of the Day had been one of her mother's favourites since she'd seen it at the pictures. Anthony Hopkins played his part most brilliantly, and so did Emma Thompson.

Emma Thompson reminded Hermione of Professor Trelawney, minus the humungous spectacles and wild hair.

It was something that began as quite the sad tale, a man's world appeared to fall apart around him, only to be saved by the appearance of an American. Maybe if she wished hard enough, her world would be saved by the appearance of such a character.

It wasn't long before Snuffles joined them in the living room. Peggy and Hermione had their feet propped on pillows, upon the coffee table. Hermione placed a spare cushion near her knees, and Snuffles wandered around before laying beneath their legs, viewing the television through the table legs.

Hermione did watch the movie, being rather curious about how the higher social classes discussed important political issues, and how the staff of such houses worked around the whims of their respective lords. Occasionally Hermione made mental notes on the fictional and how it had been reflected within the walls of Hogwarts. It seemed that the staff, however they may have disagreed with Headmaster Dumbledore's leadership, they still followed his whim. It wasn't known for there to be arguments between the staff members.

From the histories that she had managed to pull from the library over the past two years, it did appear that the victors, the Order of the Phoenix, had taken everything from those families who had been involved, or who even had connections to dark magic after the first war. They had condemned without question.

There were many who would want to discuss with those who were on the wrong side of the first war, and do their best to decrease the numbers who felt that they could not be considered as worth by the side of the light. The ones who would turn to the darkness, simply for how they were treated post war.

And Hogwarts, and the Order of the Phoenix, spent too much time with condemnation, and not reasoning why. Surely not every person who was connected to the Dark Lord could be a blood purist; at least a few of them would have been there through fear, and simply hedging bets when it came to the outcome of the war. No one with money or power wanted to lose it.

It was a difficult movie to watch, seeing how Mr Stevens seemed to be emotional unattached to the important people in his life, busy keeping the house to appear perfect for guests and visitors. While the important people dealt with the issues at hand, the staff kept the world appearing a sense of normalcy. The staff followed blindly, showing to the outside world the opinions of their masters. Hermione wondered just how many members of staff were trying to keep the country appearing normal, while the world fell to pieces.

How many people in Hogwarts and in the Ministry were blindly following their masters?

 _'Lord Darlington is a classic English gentleman of the old school: decent and honourable and well-meaning… You are, all of you, amateurs, and international affairs should never be run by gentlemen amateurs. Do you have any idea of what sort of a place the world is becoming all around you? The days when you could just act out of your noble instincts are over.'_ The words of the American politician rang true with Hermione.

Dumbledore and his Order of the Phoenix were the noble amateurs. Acting on principle, not with reality. There was little that could be done of course, the wheels had already been set in motion, and no one could argue with the opinions of a dead man. A man who had meant so much, to so many people. His plans were in place, and were there too many little tangents of thought, too many half placed confidences; no one truly knew everything, yet if anything went wrong it would be the agent to blame, and not the man who concocted everything.

Peggy watched the film, enraptured by the tale playing out on the screen. Hermione often wondered whether her mother had an old man crush on Anthony Hopkirk. And the relationship between them was something special; they were such wonderful characters, and they had such a journey to complete on screen.

It was difficult to watch them skirt around each other and the lives they lived that pulled them away from each other.

Hermione passed her empty plate to her mother, who placed it with hers on the side table. Together they had watched this movie many times. Hermione didn't want to end up like Sally, married quickly and disappointed with her choices. No body wished to be disappointed in their choices in partners.

As Snuffles shifted on the pillow beneath her, Hermione's thoughts popped back to Sirius Black. It was such a shame that he had perished in the skirmish at the Ministry. Hermione had always enjoyed his company, he was a scoundrel and a gentleman, with the best stories.

On the screen it was heart breaking to watch Sally and Mr Stevens part ways once again. No matter how many times they watched the film, Hermione always hoped that Sally would forgo the seaside, and return to Darlington Hall. She did always look so upset leaving on that damned bus.

Hermione didn't want to be Sally.

Peggy set the tape to rewind as the credits began to roll. Hermione clambered from her perch and whisked the plates off, back to the kitchen. Snuffles seemed to sense that there would be no more food, simply turning his head to watch her go before returning to the comfort of the cushion.

Now that the obligatory romantic movie had been watched, it was time for the excitement to start. Hermione had grabbed the 1995 El Mariachi from her father's study along with its sequel, Desperado. The action and adventure was going to start here and end who knew where.

It was a few days after the wedding when Hermione received the news, not only had the Weasley wedding been attacked by Death Eaters, but the ministry had fallen into the hands of the Dark Lord. Not that it wasn't already corrupt as Sin, it was just officially corrupt now.

Peggy helped her daughter pack up the things that she would need for the emergency evacuation kit. As well as putting together such a kit for herself and Ray. There were a couple of sets of false documents for Hermione and her parents; it appeared that Margaret Granger had been more than well prepared.

And perhaps not so truthful about her origins. She'd given Hermione a burner phone and a handful of emergency contacts; all of which were good friends of Peggy's, but none that should be contacted unless it was an extreme emergency.

"Does Dad know about this?"

Peggy shook her head, "nope, he knows nothing of me before university. Marcus, your last resort, is like a father to me; he gave me away at my wedding. You are not allowed to tell your father anything."

The promise was made and the bags were packed. They hoped that they would not be required to use them, although with every passing hour it looked more likely. Between owls, floo calls and emergency news bulletins, the world had gone mad.

Yes she was a woman grown, but Hermione was in no way prepared for the parting between herself and her parents. There was no way of knowing whether they would ever see each other again. Peggy had agreed that herself and Raymond would head one way into Europe, and Hermione should take Snuffles and find a way to get to her friends, and if not her friends, her school. There was safety for her somewhere, and she needed to find it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Snuffles**

As soon as night fell the Granger household became a flurry of action. Hermione's little Nissan Micra had been prepared earlier in the day; her handbag was sitting behind the driver's seat. In the boot was a single suitcase, which Hermione had placed an undetectable extension charm upon which held her parents belongings, and the supplies for Snuffles.

Once the local boozer had kicked out, and the village had gone to sleep, the family slipped away into the night. Ray was surprisingly obedient, his wife seemed to have everything in hand. He did wonder, he had questions, but he knew it was not the time or place.

Hermione drove responsibly towards Cambridge. Her mother had bought a new, second hand car which they would pick up in the morning. It would be in Cambridge they would part ways.

"Are you sure about this, you can always travel with us Hermione?" her dad was sitting on the back seat with Snuffles.

"As much as I would love to, I need to find my friends." Hermione replied, never taking her eyes off the road.

"Don't worry so much Ray," Peggy turned in the passenger seat to be able to talk to him. "Our sweet girl is all frown up."

The rest of the journey was made up of small talk and peaceful silences.

The road before her was long and dark, and with only Snuffles for company it was becoming rather lonely. When her parents had been saying goodbye, the lovable fluff ball had made himself comfortable in the passenger seat.

The dog hadn't slipped back to sleep since her parents had left. He was alert and clearly taking note of what was going on about him.

"Don't worry Snuffles, a few more miles and we'll be bedding down for the night." They were heading for a holiday cottage, where they would stay for a few days until the paper work cleared. No longer would the car be registered to one Margaret Granger, but Mya Beauchêne. Hermione had chosen to take her grandmother's maiden name, it would be difficult to track it back to sweet little Hermione Granger; especially when Ouma had never set foot in Great Britain.

She hoped to manage to make it close enough to Hogwarts to be able to walk and speak to someone about what was happening. It wasn't as simple as driving straight to Scotland, she was on the run and would need to ditch the car at some point. It wouldn't be long before Hermione Granger no longer existed. Her mother had put the wheels in motion.

"I know, I miss them too."

Snuffles was going to be the only company she had for a while, she might as well get used to talking with him.

The sun was rising as Hermione reached the holiday cottage. The owner was waiting on the driveway with the keys, quite happy to hand them off and make their way back to their bed.

Letting herself into the house, she began shedding the last traces of Hermione.

Snuffles lay at her feet in the bathroom while she took kitchen scissors to her chocolate locks. She'd felt the trace trickle through her whilst she'd been driving, back to the muggle ways she knew.

The lengths of wiry frizz collected together in the sink. While she aimed for a rough pixie, the curl and kink of her hair left her with a cute ass curly mop.

Clearing up she began the next step, bleaching the colour from the ends of her hair. No longer would she be recognisable as Hermione, she was going to breath in the essence of Mya.

Watching it develop in the mirror, realised that she actually liked the shortness. Perhaps when everything was all over she wouldn't bother growing it back out. It had been a pain to look after, no matter how many times her mother had helped relax it, her hair had never wanted to behave.

Snuffles looked rather upset from his space on the floor, she could tell that he was missing her parents as much as she was. She couldn't make him promises, there was a high probability that Snuffles would be dead before she met up with her parents again.

Peggy and Raymond had told her they were heading for the continent; she knew they would be driving to Folkstone and catching the Euroshuttle across to Calais. After that there was no further information. It was likely that Peggy would force them to ditch the car and purchase another before they even made it half way across France.

Her parents were planning on an adventure, and she wasn't privy to the details, never mind their aliases.

Washing out the bleach, Hermione wrapped her hair in a towel and escorted Snuffles out to the back garden. He was happy to wander around and give everything a sniff, before choosing his favourite spot to pee. Unlike the behaviour he showed when with her father, Snuffles came straight back towards the door once he'd finished. Hermione couldn't help but smile, her father used to end up playing with the dog in the garden every time Snuffles was let out.

"I'll have to tell Dad how well behaved you are, puppy." She smiled, ruffling his fur.

After setting food and water out for him, she made herself something to eat. She was surprisingly comfortable sitting in the kitchen in nothing but ripped skinny jeans and her bra. Once her hair was dry she was going straight for the hair dye. The brown into blonde ombre she was currently sporting wasn't her thing, she suddenly looked almost a carbon copy of her mother.

There was a pot of turquoise dye sitting on the bathroom counter. Hermione Granger was now dead, she'd died in her childhood home. Margaret Granger's contacts would have finished seeing to that by now. The last reminders of that girl would be shed in the holiday cottage.

Once her lunch was finished, she towel dried her hair and dragged her dog tired body back to the bathroom. She'd finish her transformation before she slept; at least then she would be prepared to leave at a moment's notice.

Snuffles found he had to jump on the bed and snuggle into the sleeping girl to get her to wake. He realised she was tired, and appreciated that she needed rest so that they could continue on their journey. But he needed the garden, so was left with little choice other than to wake her.

"Hey, sweetheart." Mya whispered, her voice thick with sleep. "Come on then, let's get you outside."

She crawled from her bed and into the kitchen. Opening the door for the dog she threw herself into a chair at the breakfast bar. She was knackered, but there were things that needed doing; mostly she needed to see if she could get in touch with someone from the magical side of the country.

It wasn't possible for her to use magic, and she didn't have an owl to hand. While Snuffles enjoyed a tumble around the garden, Hermione grabbed her make up case and started putting together a new look.

Her dorm mates thought she was useless at being a girl, how wrong they were. While at school she didn't see the point of excessive makeup or beauty charms; she didn't need to shorten her skirts or tighten her shirts, she was quite comfortable in her regulation uniform. Comfortable without stepping outside of the enforced mould. Her hair and was rebellious enough.

Snuffles was sitting by her side when she was finished.

"Any good?" she asked.

His tail wagged in response. She leant down and ruffled his fur. She enjoyed his company, and it would pain her immensely when he passed.

Snuffles wasn't exactly a young dog, and if they made it through the coming war together it would be a miracle.

For now she would be rocking a grunge look. It was so different to her usual style, she should be able to pass anyone who may be looking for her without an issue.

Her plan was to make it up to Professor McGonagall's holiday residence, hopefully before she left for the school term. Hopefully her head of house would be able to shed some light upon the old man's plans, and perhaps on how she might be able to find Harry and Ron to be able to help them.

. . .

Peggy and her husband made it to Paris without incident. He'd yet to ask the burning questions that were on the tip of his tongue, but she could be sure that they would be aired at some point. Probably not while either one of them was driving.

Neither of the pair were formally on the run, but she knew it was better to get ahead of the game. Many of the contacts she had before university were either dead or serving time, there were still a few that would be happy to lay down their lives to protect her.

They had a hotel in a town to the South East of the city. It wouldn't be long until they arrived. Peggy wasn't happy in having to leave her daughter, nor was she particularly looking forward to the upcoming confrontation, but she was determined to enjoy as much of their European adventure as she could. Margaret had always wanted to travel, and this would be her opportunity.

. . .

Beauchêne - Beautiful Oak


	5. Chapter 5

**Snuffles**

Minerva had been pacing across the tiled floor of her kitchen throughout the night. She'd received an owl demanding her return to the castle post-haste the previous evening; it appeared that Severus was taking his new duties as headmaster very seriously. Her response had been short, noting that her return would be swift once she'd completed closing up her cottage.

Her spells had been working on the cottage as the darkness had swallowed the earth. With the threat of war, she had been pondering retirement, the death of Albus had only increased her considerations. Minerva bore the name of the Roman goddess of wisdom and warfare, she was also the head of a house of mighty lions; but she was ageing, and battles were not kind to the vulnerable.

She'd drifted about the kitchen, questioning whether the children of Gryffindor could survive on their own. Hogwarts would not be the same upon her return, and Albus had sown many seeds of distrust amongst the houses before his death. The man had been a meddler, and no matter how she tried to help, he had doubted even her in the end. She couldn't help but believe that the upcoming war was, for the majority, his fault. Over the past six years, he'd had many opportunities to stop He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in his tracks, but had left it to her precious Harry.

Harry, the boy she'd wanted to take in and raise as her own. The boy who had been left at the mercy of neglectful muggles and then in the misguided care of Molly Weasley.

Minerva could see what many were blind to; the Weasley family, so similar to the purebloods who despised them, could find no fault in the now deceased Headmaster. The family, who sought to treat Harry as one of their own, but could barely afford to do so. The matriarch who strived to better the situation her sons and daughter were in by any means.

Staring out, at the small garden and the loch beyond, she watched as the sun began to rise. Many summers she'd had thoughts of how content a small Harry would have been here. Playing on the lawn, swimming in the loch, but never alone. He'd have been with friends and people who loved him. There were children in the village, both muggle and magical, a place so small that everyone was close. All of the muggles here knew about the magical world; their lines mixed before living memory could recall.

In her animagus form, she'd checked in on him whenever she could. Minerva had seen the signs of neglect and pestered Albus to let him take the boy. To care for him, love him like the child she'd never had the opportunity to bear. She swore that if the opportunity had ever presented itself, she'd have raised the boy to be as brave and selfless as ever, but she'd have taught him wisdom and humility. The boy would have questioned actions and orders, not blindly becoming the weapon that Albus had forged.

She was alerted to the completion of her spells when a soft thump came from the hallway. The travelling case, she used, was packed; the house was officially closed up, wrapped in protective sheets and charms.

Minerva did not wish to leave. She could wander to her writing desk in the office, could write her resignation. She did not need to work, between the salary she'd spent responsibly over her many years of teaching, and the inheritance her long departed husband had left, she could retire more than comfortably.

Instead, she chose what was right, not what was easy. The cubs of Gryffindor needed her, the new first years especially. Albus had gifted them war, and her children needed a mother to protect them. Taking her case in hand, Minerva left her home; she acknowledged that this might be the last she saw of it.

There was a fresh pot of tea, under a stasis charm and a letter left on the kitchen table. Minerva only hoped that Hermione would make it to the cottage before anything genuinely horrible could happen to her.

The hunt for Horcruxes was slow, Harry and Ron had started with the little information that Dumbledore had given Harry before his death.

Ron was not happy that the Headmaster had sent them on a wild gnome chase. At first he'd blamed his friend, maybe Harry hadn't been paying attention to what the Headmaster was telling him. Then Ron blamed Hermione for not being there when they needed her. And then finally he realised it was Dumbledore, the man had not been right in the head by the end.

The boys travelled to Little Hangleton. With the tiny amount of information they had at hand, they decided that the Surrey village was the best place to start.

Eventually they ended up at Wool's orphanage, or at least the decayed shell that remained. Most of the east end of London had been demolished and rebuilt; the orphanage was on the list. The childhood home of Tom Riddle was due to be replaced with luxury apartments or offices.

From what they had discovered, it had been abandoned in the late 1950's, closed due to it being unsanitary and its inability to provide care for those it looked after. The boys had been hoping, if not a Horcrux then an indication of where one might be. There were records left in the cellar, musty and damp with age.

Tom's had been amongst them. The boy had been a terror as a child; his behaviour had been enough for the home to request the opinions of doctors. There were notes in his file from the orphanage's matron, her faded handwriting carefully documented every time the boy was placed in solitary confinement. The reports from Doctor's suggested that had it not been for Hogwarts, Tom would have been confined to an asylum; one doctor wrote that Electroconvulsive Therapy could be used to correct the boy.

"Harry? What's Electroconvulsive therapy?"

Harry paused a moment, trying to recall. He'd once been sent to a see a psychiatrist too, Vernon Dursley had demanded it. At the time, Harry was only just old enough to comprehend what the doctor was supposed to do, and was grieving for the parents he finally understood, were lost to him forever.

"It's electric shock treatment. These day's I don't imagine it's a common therapy, I know they consider it for severe depression; muggle healers sedate the patient, then send an electrical current through the brain. That's all I know. I don't imagine they were so kind to patients when Voldemort was a child."

He remembered Vernon pushing the doctor for the treatment, trying to convince the man that Harry had problems far worse than merely fits of tears and bouts of melancholy. Looking back, Harry wondered whether Vernon was convinced the therapy would 'cure' the magic.

It had been his Aunt Petunia who had saved him from the experience. She'd reminded her husband of just how terrifying it had been for her, there was a reason Dudley was an only child. Petunia had birthed a stillborn child in the early years of her marriage and suffered extreme postnatal depression. ECT had been the prescribed treatment. Harry had discovered more than he was ever supposed to know during that particular argument.

During their time in the orphanage cellar, the boys had been so focused on gathering information and understanding it, that neither had noticed the trace being reapplied to them.

They'd apparated out of the cellar of the Orphanage only to be surrounded by ministry officials.

Harry was public enemy number one.

Ron was guilty by association.

Neither boys received justice, the ministry's orders were as clear as crystal.

The officers did their job.

'Public Enemy No.1, Harry Potter and associates, shoot on sight. Shoot to kill.'


	6. Chapter 6

**Snuffles**

To say that Hermione and Snuffles had taken a long way, was an understatement. They'd journeyed to and fro across the country as they had meandered northwards. Currently, they were residing in a short term let in Nottingham city.

Hermione had decided it was wise to stay put for a couple of weeks. There had been nothing in the muggle papers, except for the odd article about a violent attack. Surprisingly these were all located in the south so far; it seemed that the Death Eaters had yet to branch further across the country. As they'd been driving, she'd managed to tune the radio into a little-known pirate radio station: Potterwatch. It didn't broadcast every night, but with a little bit of brain work, Hermione had managed to figure out how to get access without triggering the trace.

Snuffles had appeared to be overly hyperactive the day that Hermione had sussed how to get her car radio to autotune to the station. A smidge of wandless magic, a little ingenuity, and far too much cursing; the pair had radio access to the resistance.

They'd been crossing the Trent Bridge when the news broke. Harry and Ron were dead.

Had been for weeks.

Their bodies only just discovered in the basement of a disused orphanage, set to be demolished. From the details of the report, their bodies had been challenging to identify, the Ministry had struggled, and no information about the perpetrator of the crime was available.

The bodies would not be released for burial until further investigations were completed. There had already been a post-mortem, which had found the cause of death to be inconclusive.

Hermione could smell the cover-up from her bed in Nottingham. If the Ministry hadn't done it, the Death Eaters had. Her heart ached for Molly; her youngest son, and her, for all intents and purposes, adopted son, were dead, and she was not allowed to have the bodies to bury, to lay them to rest, allowing her to grieve and heal.

That night Hermione had cried herself to sleep, even the comfort of Snuffles had not been enough to stem the flow of tears. Not only were her two best friends dead, but now she was public enemy number one.

The little information that Dumbledore had left behind hinted at an enemy that was near enough immortal. How on earth was the world going to right itself, when the boy they all believed in was dead.

Hermione and Snuffles were quite happily wandering along the embankment when it happened. She was lost in her thoughts, pondering over a prophecy she didn't believe in when a yelp brought her tumbling to earth.

Snuffles had stopped walking; he was testing his front paw against the floor. With every tentative press, his paw snapped back towards him. Looking around, Hermione noted that it was likely that he'd stepped on something sharp.

Running over to him, she hugged his body close to her as she reached carefully to check his paw.

There was a large shard of green glass wedged across the middle of the pad.

"Sweetie, I'm going to carry you back to the car. It's going to hurt, but we're going to get you to the vet." The last time she'd been to any vets office, her heart had broken; sure this was nowhere near as dangerous as the car accident Crooks had been involved in, but still, Hermione filled with dread.

It was lucky that Hermione had taken note of the clinics in the city, in fact, she took note of them everywhere she went.

Snuffles was heavier than he looked, and his face betrayed the pain he was suffering.

She offered words of sympathy as she carried him back towards the car. He was going to need stitches and medicine, potentially even anesthesia. Hermione had noted that her puppy had surprisingly ticklish paws.

. . .

Peggy and Raymond were comfortably situated in the north of Italy by the time Ray had figured out just what he wanted to ask of his wife.

There had been arguing, raised voices and emotions flying. Now they lay together, sweaty and exhausted in the villa Peggy had been gifted upon her return to the country.

Raymond wasn't happy that his wife had friends in criminal circles, didn't like that they were generous and friendly. As Peggy reminded him, they were his family. These were the people who'd rescued her as a child, taken her in as one of their own. They were the only family Peggy knew, and now there were no favours owed, just love and the bond that comes with being a family.

He had to admit, eventually, that he could see his son growing up here. The villa had a working vineyard. They could make wine, make another life for themselves. Maybe once everything was over, Hermione could join them.

There was a future here in Italy, he could feel it.


End file.
